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Long-form blog posts and editorials. Topics cover both personal and the world at large. 

Review: 2016 Mazda MX-5 Miata Sport

2.5 Years of 'Jinba Ittai'

What most ensnared me to the car was Mazda’s philosophy.

In developing the fourth-generation (ND) MX-5, Mazda aimed to make the new Miata equally light as the beloved first-generation (NA) and dimensionally smaller than the third-generation (NC). I was pleasantly surprised by this because new generations of vehicles tend to be bigger than the predecessors; a contemporary Toyota Camry easily dwarfs a model from the early aughts.

I bet most people thought the ND Miata would be bigger and more powerful than the NC. Neither of those turned out to be true.

Colin Chapman would be proud: Mazda added lightness to go faster.  

I was also drawn in by the beautiful shape. Before the ND I’ve dismissed the MX-5 as a viable sports-car because of its odd appearance: it’s too symmetric. The NC Miata was the worst offender: squint and you’d have a harder time differentiating the front from the rear. The ND finally gave the Mazda flagship proper front-engine sports-car proportions: long hood, short deck, wheels pushed to the corners.

If Jaguar were to design a tiny convertible sports-car, something to slot below the F-Type, it’d look very much like the ND Miata. Mix in there as well are a bits reminiscing of a BMW Z8, especially the view from three-quarters. After the hugely polarizing ‘smiley face’ of the NC, Mazda absolutely nailed the design of the ND Miata: a shrunken down grand-touring style convertible.

The car's best view? From the front. 

The final hurdle before purchase was whether or not I’d fit. I’ve sat in an NC Miata and I cannot adjust to the ideal driving position without punching my head through the cloth top (drive top down all the time?). Mazda made the ND slightly smaller but have done so without sacrificing any of the already scarce interior space. To my relief I am able to sit properly in the ND, leaving two finger’s worth of space between head and roof. It’s clear Mazda have engineered the interior packaging to accommodate more body size variables than before.

It’s far from ideal, though. I’d love to sit lower but for whatever reason the ND Miata’s seat mechanism doesn’t have a singular adjustment for height. Rather than flat, the seat-rail is inclined ascending forward so that when the seat is moved laterally the height is increased closer to the dashboard and decreased when pushed away. It’s a genius engineering to save a bit of kilos but with my long torso/short legs combo I need to sit close to the steering wheel but that means the seat is higher than what it can be.

The steering wheel doesn’t telescope either (saving more precious kilograms) so while I do have a good driving-position in the ND, it definitely can be improved. 

As expected it’s mighty narrow inside, and space is at a premium. I can reach over and roll down the passenger-side window without my back leaving the seatback. The glove-box is behind in between the driver and passenger, requiring elbow and or back contortion to access. The aperture underneath the center-console lid is so small it can’t even fit a smartphone. The door-panels are entirely absent of map pockets so the passenger seat suffices as substitute to store items.  

The important bits however are well done indeed: the seats are supportive and comfortable even though they look plain and generic. On a road trip to LA the numb buttocks I experienced during a similar trip in another car was happily absent. The steering wheel feels good in the hand, though the diameter is a tad too large for me tastes, and the rim could be thicker. The manual convertible top cannot be more easier and faster to operate (unlatch, flip, latch – with one hand). One has to wonder why don’t every manufacturer use the same system rather than opting for heavy and slow automatic roofs. 

It feels wonderful to be so cocooned inside the ND: driving feel is spot on and the proverbial “being one with the car” rings very true. The seating position is downright supercar: it’s super low (getting out the car is never elegant), your feet is splayed out front practically horizontal, and the interior is shrink-wrapped around you.

Not bad for 25 grand.

Power however is not so supercar, though lots of grunt was never the Miata ethos. The ND is motivated by the same naturally-aspirated 2-liter four-cylinder found in the Mazda 3 sedan. That sounds quite disappointing on paper, but given the pricing aim a bespoke motor is probably impossible. Mazda did tweak the engine slightly to make it rev freer and have a sports-car worthy exhaust note. It makes 155 horsepower, more than enough for the 2,300 pound frame. Indeed the motor sounds amazing, and unlike turbocharged units that run out of steam early, the atmospheric Skyactiv unit punches straight to redline, egging on the driver to play chicken with the rev limiter.

Grab the next gear and you’ll find one of the finest manual gearboxes ever made. Essentially a mid-engine car, the ND’s motor is entirely behind the front-axle. With drive going towards the rear, the transmission is located inline right underneath the driver’s shifting arm. With no need for connecting cables, the gear-level is connected directly to gearbox; at neutral idle it does this delightful dance as it shakes along other drivetrain components.

It’s tactile joy to row through the gears in the ND: the feel is heavy yet forgiving, and each gate is supremely defined. The stick slots into each gear with such mechanical ease and solidity you’d want to do it over and over – and the opportunity is always there. Mazda geared the ND very short: the run to 60 requires three shifts, and 6th gear is 1 to 1. It makes local street driving super engaging, much more fun than high power sports-cars where the end of 2nd gear is already jail-time territory.  

The jewel of a transmission is paired with a great set of pedals. The clutch can’t claim to be the most feel-some, but vague it isn’t, and it does the job well consistently. The floor-hinged throttle pedal eases heel-toe maneuvers, and the placement of the brake pedal is judged perfectly for such purposes. The ND is a good car to learn advance downshift techniques (or manual gearbox in general) with; my first successful heel-toe pedal dance was in the Miata.

As my first foray in rear-wheel drive dynamics, the ND Miata’s supreme balance may have spoiled me forever. The car is neutral at all times; understeer can only be provoked by going too stupidly fast into a corner. Likewise I can only coax oversteer when the surface is damp from rain. With modest power and lacking a locking differential from the Club trim, in the dry it’s nearly impossible to induce the tail outwards. The ND smoothly points and goes without need to fight against any sort of countering forces.   

In a word, it’s sublime. I’m going to ill-prepared in the future when I get into other rear-wheel drive cars because they won’t be nearly as balanced as the ND.

Though I hope those cars will have better steering feel. The rack on the MX-5 is pointy, direct, and sharp in complement to the brilliant chassis, but ultimate tactile sensation just isn’t there. My previous car was an WRX STI and its hydraulic-assisted rack was full of information to the hand. In contrast the ND’s electric power-steering is vague and leaves a bit wanting. The car is lucky in its balance because otherwise the scant details from the steering leaves the driver unprepared for sudden reactions; more muscle memory than innate adaptation. The ND Miata’s steering is adequate for its purposes, but a point for improvement in future iterations.

No need to change however is the overall size of the car. I love how small and nimble the ND is, especially in dense metropolitan cities full of traffic. The ability to slot into spaces and take shortcuts other vehicles physically cannot always brings a smile to my face. A normal car that would’ve been blocked by the leading pack from making a right turn on red, the MX-5 squeeze through on the side no problem. I reach the zenith of smugness when I find street parking spots in between two houses that only cars the size of a Miata and smaller can fit.

I became that guy in a parking structure that when parked in between vehicles my spot looks like it’s empty.

Of course, the diminutive dimensions also has negative side effects. Not only are vehicles getting larger, but the most popular kind of car these days are sports-utility vehicles. Suffice it to say the ND is at a dangerous size disadvantage. I can literally hide in most people’s blind-spots, and had to perform evasive maneuver countless times because the driver didn’t do a head check, thought the lane was clear (it wasn’t), and proceeded to switch lanes onto me.

It isn’t too difficult to imagine how horrible of a shape I’d be in were I to collide with the typical sized car. Thankfully I haven’t had to find out.

Blindspot monitoring systems saves lives.

Along with the aforementioned lack of interior storage space, the ND Miata’s barely six cubic-feet trunk is a hindrance during the rare road-trips and airport runs. It can fit an entire Costco pizza laid flat, for what it’s worth. Most of the time items larger than a weekend bag gets transported in the passenger seat, or by the passenger if one is present. On one particular trip to the airport the friend I was driving had to hold her luggage on her lap because it wouldn’t fit through the trunk opening.

Part of the fun of owning a Miata, I would say.

The running costs for all that fun is delightfully minimal. Weighting practically nothing compared to the average car, even when I mash the go pedal with abandon the ND returns around 27 miles-per-gallon. Hypermiling on a road-trip can easily net efficiency in the 40s. According to tracking on Fuelly, the ND costs me $0.111 per mile in petrol, which is apparently quite good.

Washing the ND takes half the time of a normal car. 

The two-liter engine requires about five quarts of 0W-20 synthetic oil, costing only around 30 dollars for top brands. Throw in a filter for seven dollars and an single oil-change can be done for under 40 bucks – bring your own labor. The MX-5’s lightness means consumables aren’t as fast wearing: after 17,000 miles, tires and brake material looks barely worn in. When it’s time to service those items, it’ll be incredibly cheap. In the Sport trim the ND Miata runs 16-inch wheels, comically tiny these days when a new Honda Civic Type R comes standard with 20 inchers. However, a set of four decent replacement 195/50R16 tires is well below 400 dollars.

The same amount will only buy you one tire on the Civic Type R.

For urban city drivers I think the ND Miata is the best sports-car for the money; an MX-5 blends in where a Porsche Cayman couldn’t. The precise chassis balance, the short and sweet gearbox, and the punchy engine can be enjoyed well below speed limits. A favorite things to do in the ND is tackling 90-degree turns at street corners: I must judge the braking point, heel-toe downshift to second gear, and then steer the car smoothly through, waiting for the exact moment to apply throttle.    

To derive the same driving pleasure from a Cayman you’d need at least a mountain road, if not a full-on track. In an old episode of Top Gear, while driving a Nissan GT-R through Tokyo, Jeremy Clarkson hyperbolically remarked that Tokyo isn’t a city, it’s a racetrack.

The ND Miata makes any city a racetrack.

The absurdly low maintenance costs and parking conveniences are just bonuses. If the lack of carrying capacity (for persons or otherwise) is a parameter that fits your lifestyle, the ND Miata makes a great daily-driver. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my 2.5 years with the car.

Did I mention the roof goes down as well? That is the coup de grace.

 

2016 Mazda MX-5 Miata Sport
Date acquired: November 2015
Date sold: May 2018
Total mileage: 16660
Total running cost: $2,078
Lifetime MPG: 29.8

Intro: 2016 Mazda MX-5 Miata

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While I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my time with the WRX STI, after three year of blissful ownership it was time to move on. You can read all about it in a previous blog post. To sum it up, the STI is a very rapid point-A to point-B car indeed, but its numerous small faults and shortcomings squandered away any confidence I had in the car, and thus it was on to the next. 

Having owned front-driven and all-wheel drive cars, the next logical destination was a rear-wheel drive sports car. From the very first moment Mazda released the details on the new ND MX-5 Miata, I was hooked. Only the fourth new generation in its illustrious 25-year existence, the ND’s exterior styling finally departed from the signature ‘cute’ of the previous models into something decidedly modern and purposeful. What really sold me however was the 100kg diet from the NC, and - rare in a modern car - dimensionally smaller than the old car.

The only question was whether or not I’d fit in one. My 5’10” frame with an unnaturally long torso prevented me from fitting properly in the NC MX-5. Seated in the optimal position, my eyes were level with the top of the windscreen, which obviously isn’t very safe at all. Thankfully, I fit in ND quite well, with a one-and-a-half finger gap between the top of my head and the fabric roof. So with the knowledge that I can fit, I acquired a 2016 Mazda MX-5 Miata Sport a bit over three weeks ago.

The ND is available in three trim levels: Sport, Club, and Grand Touring. All are motivated by the same 155hp SKYACTIV 2.0L four-cylinder engine and power sent to the rear wheels. The Club trim adds 17inch wheels, Bilstein shocks, torsen limited-slip differential, Mazda Connect infotainment system, and optional forged BBS alloys with 4-pot Brembo front brakes. The Grand Touring does without the trick dampers and locking diff, and instead provides customers with comfort items such as blind spot monitoring (in a Miata?) and cross-traffic alert, auto adaptive headlamps, heated leather seats, and automatic climate control.

The reason I chose the Sport was primarily due to not wanting to pay the almost $3,000 extra for the Club spec (the BBS and Brembo package is another $3,000 on top of that). As a car enthusiast of course I’d love to have all those performance addenda, but paying over $30,000 for an MX-5 just feels wrong. I’ve no need for the fancy infotainment system, as the ability to connect an iPhone via Bluetooth is plenty enough for music and navigation (contemporary infotainment systems still pale in comparison to the modern smartphone for speed and ease of use). The Grand Touring is even dearer in price than the Club, and for a car whose developmental philosophy is trimming weight by the gram (the ‘gram strategy’), the luxurious amenities offered in the GT seems entirely counterintuitive. No thank you.

Besides, the MX-5 Sport’s 16 inch wheels with 195 section tires is a proper laugh in the face of ever increasing wheel and tire sizes in performance cars (boggles my mind a Porsche GT3 RS runs a 21inch wheel), and I absolutely adore them. Ticking the box for either the Club or Grand Touring would’ve lost me those wonderful donuts. I’ll find out in the ownership term if running economy car-sized wheels is any detriment to the thrill of driving.

My Ceramic Metallic (that’s silver in Mazda speak) MX-5 has but one option: the $130 advance keyless entry. It allows access to the doors and trunk-lid, and operates the engine all without me having to take the key-fob out of my pocket. I normally wouldn’t tick the box for non-essential options like advance keyless, but purchasing an absolute poverty-spec ND MX-5 at this time would entail waiting two additional months for one to be ordered from Hiroshima. The final damage to wallet for the car came in at $25,865.

Much like how automotive magazines do long-term car tests, I’ll be doing monthly updates on this blog about my ownership experience with the Miata, and will expand upon the varying details of the car, how it drives, the quirks and criticisms as the months roll by. For now, in the brief few weeks I’ve owned the car, I’m massively enjoying the car’s lightweight demeanor, sharp steering, comfortable seats, and just about the best manual gearbox I’ve ever rowed. The top comes down, too, which is an altogether different experience indeed. Stay tuned. 

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Date acquired: November 2015
Total mileage: 485
Mileage this month: 485
Costs this month: $0
MPG this month: 31

Farewell, Stella

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As a car enthusiast, you’d think it would be a difficult task to sell your beloved ride. It makes sense: the boatloads of money, time, and enjoyment spent with your own automobile create a sentimental value that rivals, and for some of us surpasses, the relationship between a parent and child. To let that go, and henceforth never see your beloved car again while being reminded of it every time you encounter the same model on the road, must be quite the arduous decision.

Turns out, it wasn’t; at least from my point of view. A few weeks back I sold my three-years-owned Subaru Impreza WRX STI to the local CarMax, and the decision process took less than a day. The lone point I agonized over was whether or not I thought the price quote given to me was a fair deal (it was). Not an ounce of agony or reflection was spent towards whether the decision to sell the car would come back to haunt me. In fact, I was actually relieved when I placed my signature on the final form, and a cashier’s check of considerable sum was handed to me in exchange.

I loved the STI: it was a great car worthy of consigning a great chunk of my monthly paycheck towards paying for it. It was the first automobile I purchased with my own money, and cause of that it will always hold a special honor in my CV of automobile ownership. In many ways the STI was my proverbial ‘dream-car’, a nameplate I’ve lusted after every since the earliest days of the Gran Turismo game franchise. The rally homologation special offered supercar-beating performance for the price of a compact luxury sedan. For a young petrol-head eager to sample the upper-echelons of speed and horsepower for the first time, it was amongst the very few cars perfect for the task.

You’ve only had to put the accelerator pedal all the way to carpet once to witness exactly why enthusiasts throughout automotive history constantly crave more power and faster velocity. The all-wheel-drive assisted launch of the 305 horsepower STI is absolutely intoxicating, with a pull that pushes you back onto the seats, and your passenger desperately grasping for the grab-handle. The car I drove previously presented only a meager 125 horsepower, so the jump to STI-class of forward propulsion was immense. The STI made passing other motorists on the freeway a simple matter of thought and immediate action, rather than precisely calculated maneuvers and holding your breath.

Subaru’s flagship product was also my first encounter with the wonderful world of all-wheel drive. It’s such an effective tool in the application of traction that it’s no surprise the drivetrain layout has been banned in all forms of motorsport, save the dedicated rally disciplines. All-wheel drive flatters the driver, no matter his or her skill level. Instead of finessing the throttle like a surgeon making a precise cut, power to four wheels allows the driver to prod the pedal like an on/off switch. Endowed with limited-slip differentials front, center, and rear, the STI offered so much grip that not once during ownership did I ever induce the tires to squeal, though perhaps that’s more commentary on me not having the requisite skills than anything.  

You haven’t experienced the joy of manual transmission until you’ve owned a car where the shifter is directly connected to the gearbox via rods, instead of the more common cable linkage. It’s been said the Aisin six-speed in the STI is one of the best manual gearboxes on the market, and after having one of my own to row, I can say those anecdotes are absolutely true. The STI has precise shifting action, excellent feel, accurately defined gates, and a sense of mechanical perfection that begs you to downshift just so you can upshift again. The gearbox never complained with jarring crunches or harsh metal-on-metal disagreement; it remained as slick as ever, no matter the countless high-RPM downshifts I threw at it.

I adore the feel and precision of a rod-actuated transmission so much that my car to follow the STI will also feature the same mechanical wondrousness.

Put all together, the STI is one of the best point-A to point-B sports cars for the money, the proverbial one car to do it all. So why on earth, you’d think, did I sell it? It’s simple, really: as a car enthusiast, my goal is to sample as much as possible the full spectrum of the automotive landscape. I’ve had the privilege to own an all-wheel drive turbocharged rally car facsimile, and previously, a front-wheel drive family sedan. It’s time to have a go at the rear-wheel drive experience, which is why the STI got sold a few weeks back.

Of course, that car was not without its faults. The STI may merely costs around the mid 30 thousands mark, but its supercar-rivaling performance equates to maintenance and upkeep costs that are also akin to sports cars many times its price. Equipped with a massively complicated all-wheel drive system and a turbocharged EJ257 motor renowned for its fickleness, keeping the STI on the road in top condition was an exercise in great damage to the wallet. Simple service costs $160 at the dealership, and major service is upwards of $700. Because the numerous amounts of horror stories with engines eating its piston rings and motor oil magically disappearing, I didn’t dare risk not following the prescribed maintenance schedules to the dot - an eye-wateringly expensive endeavor.  

Due to having aerodynamic properties of a brick-wall with smaller brick-walls appended on, the STI struggles to leave the mid-teens miles per gallon even if you were to put an egg under the gas pedal and your aim was to not break it. Automotive technology has gone far enough ahead where cars with considerable more horsepower can achieve significantly better fuel mileage. While no one should purchase these sorts of cars whilst paying mind to economy figures, I would be lying if I said I didn’t die a bit every time I visited a petrol station.

A car that’s so expensive to run forces you to find excuse not to drive it often, which is completely antithetical to what sports cars – and cars in general – are all about: the sheer enjoyment of getting out and driving.

The STI was a tremendous paradigm shift from my first car, with it having almost 200 more horsepower, two additional wheels providing forward momentum, and because of all that additional equipment, some 700 pounds heavier. Having sold the STI and gone back to driving the old Toyota Corolla, I’ve had quite a few astounding epiphanies:

1. Weighing in at around 3,400 pounds, the STI isn’t a porker by today’s standards - a rear-driven BMW M3 weights about the same. Stepping back into a Corolla that tips the scale at a scant 2,700 pounds however made me realize the laws of physics cannot be tamed by sheer mechanical trickery or engine prowess. Even though the Corolla lacks the superior all-wheel traction and quick-ratio steering of the STI, the fact that it’s got 700 fewer pounds to motivate reveals a surprising nimbleness that’s lacking in the Subaru. The STI never did hide its weight well; only through the bullish might of its engine and drivetrain combination did it manage to attain its famed agility and quickness - not unlike a Nissan GT-R. The mass is always there: an omnipresent dulling sensation seemingly tangible until you realize you’ve gone way faster through that corner than thought possible.

It’s a fast car for sure, but there’s no substitute for lightweight. Colin Chapman’s ethos is eternal.  

2. Through owning the STI, I found out that I much prefer atmospheric engines to turbocharged motors. Force-induction, an excellent technology to make massive amounts of power relatively easily, cannot match natural-aspiration for precision and sharpness. The STI’s considerable turbo-lag and power surge once the tach-needle sweeps past 4,000 RPM is indeed manic and giggle-inducing, but I find myself longing more for the crispness and one-to-one relationship between throttle and power that’s characteristic to atmospheric engines. While it may only be a meager NA 1.8-liter four-cylinder in a family sedan, my return to the Corolla immediately turned me towards the camp of enthusiasts whom are fervently against contemporary automobile’s shift to turbocharged engines. In a world where it’s increasingly difficult to find new sports cars with naturally aspiration, I will be amongst the crowd clinging on to them as long as possible.  

3. I don’t know what’s the appropriate amount of power for a street-driven car, but I do know that 305 horsepower in the STI is excessive (start your pitchforks and torches). Only on the brief highway onramps where I’m the lead car can I enjoy putting my foot down flat and winding it out through the first three gears - any gears more than that would land me swiftly in jail. Those scant seconds are absolutely bliss for sure, but the rest of the time I’m mired in the doldrums of infamous San Francisco traffic, unable to access any of the car’s substantial power reserves. Even on mountainous B-roads, opportunity to access the STI’s limits requires a kind bravery and recklessness that I’m far too reluctant to attempt. 305 horsepower isn’t a whole lot when you consider cars with 400-500hp can be bought for around $50,000. How owners of those cars have any fun whilst driving outside the confines of a racetrack is beyond me.

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Three years with the STI was a necessary tick on my list of automotive experiences. I found out exactly what sport sedans with appropriate amounts of turbocharged power, excellent steering, bulletproof manual gearbox, and sublime all-wheel traction are like to drive. It’s bloody spectacular, and everything I’ve read and expected. Having had a prolonged taste of an STI’s prowess, for its successor as my next car to be, I’ve decided to scale it back. Occupying soon the same parking space with is a car that’s only got 158 horsepower out of an atmospheric 2.0-liter inline-four. Power to the tarmac will be delivered via the rear two wheels. Most importantly, the new car will be some 1,000 pounds lighter. I’ll reveal and write about that car in a future post.  

In the meantime, I can’t say I’ve really missed the STI since selling it a few weeks ago. It took a few moments for me to cease giving the ‘Subaru wave’ to other STI drivers on the road when I encounter them (massively awkward with me driving the Corolla), but absent was any tinge of remorse or jealousy. I guess I’m just not the type of car enthusiast that hangs on to their cars forever, or would hugely regret a sale afterwards. There’s a new car to look forward to! And that’s a vastly more exciting prospect than wasting time lamenting the absence of a car.  

Farewell, Stella.  

Cars of interest from the 2013 NYIAS

The 2013 New York International Auto Show (NYIAS) was held in (where else) New York City last week. It is the final major show of the so called “auto show season”, and automakers usually show production ready new vehicles (as opposed to concept cars) that will be available to consumers in the next few years.

While I am not currently looking to purchase a new car (cause I just did it last winter), as an automotive enthusiast I am always on the prow for new and exciting cars that could potentially be the replacement for my current ride. Not to mention, trading in cars and switching for another is bloody easy these days. The three cars from NYIAS that caught my attention are as follows:

AUDI S3

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Picture this: for a little under $40,000, you will soon be able to purchase an “S” trim Audi sedan with a 295hp turbo four-cylinder engine, and all wheel drive. The S3 sedan (and it’s more pedestrian A3 brother) is ushering Audi back into the luxury compact sedan class, since the A4 that previously occupies it has grown in size with every generation. Audi is also hoping to attract younger buyers, with the new A3 bringing the price of entry to the Audi family down to the $30,000s range.

Of course, it’s the S3 variant that really piqued my interest. With almost 300 horsepower and all wheel drive, it’s practically the same car (performance spec wise) as my WRX STI – but in a more luxurious, Audi wrapper. For sure the Haldex based (front wheel biased) all wheel drive system in the S3 is not nearly as sporting as the one in the STI (which has a true center differential), but that difference is made up in a high quality interior and the famed Audi sophistication. Plus, the exterior styling is quite Teutonic chic, isn’t it?

For only $6,000 more than what I paid for my STI, the new Audi S3 looks to be an excellent performance sports-luxury bargain.

MERCEDES BENZ CLA45 AMG

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Just as Audi is trying to reach the younger market with the new A3/S3, their geographic competitor Mercedes Benz is also targeting the same demographic. Instead of refreshing a model in its current stable, Mercedes is choosing to introduce a brand new product line - the CLA class. The CLA is a compact, sleek, and stylish four-door “coupe” that is priced right at $31,000 for the base model. It’s an unprecedented entry price for a Mercedes Benz, one that it hopes to attract young buyers looking for the prestige and luxury of the three-pointed star, but doesn’t necessarily want to pay a high price for it.

At NYIAS, Mercedes introduced the hot, AMG version of the CLA – the CLA45 AMG. Just like the Audi S3, it has a two-litre turbocharged four-cylinder engine, but here it makes a ground breaking 355 horsepower (that’s a record 177 horsepower per litre of displacement). The CLA45 AMG put power to the ground via all wheel drive, though due to the transverse engine layout, it’s a front biased Haldex setup just like the S3. The upgraded brakes look absolutely beefy; looks to be six-piston units up front and two-pistons in the rear.

With higher performance potential come higher price: the CLA45 AMG starts at a little over $50,000. While this is outside my price range, it’s a known fact that Mercedes Benz AMG cars depreciate like nothing else. If I was going to purchase one (and the car is pretty much a more powerful and more luxurious version of my STI), best to wait a few years and get it used. 

VOLVO V60 WAGON

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I’ve always had a liking for wagons; they represent great utility and cargo capacity, but without the off-roading pretentiousness of sports-utility vehicles (because face it, 99% of SUVs are not seeing anything outside of asphalt). Volvo is world famous for it’s wagons (like the classic 240 turbo), and it was a shame that these past years, it did not offer a single wagon in the North American market. Well, that would soon change.

At NYIAS, Volvo announced that it would be bringing its European-market midsize wagon, the V60, to America (along with a fresh facelift to the styling). I am beyond ecstatic because I am a big fan of the Scandinavian chic styling of contemporary Volvos, but did not consider a regular S60 sedan during my last round of car purchasing because the wagon V60 was not available in these shores (no point in buying a Volvo if it’s not in wagon form like the classics).

If a Volvo V60, in T5 all-wheel-drive form can be had in the mid to high $30,000s, then it’s a very enticing proposition indeed to trade in my STI. It may perhaps be the ultimate go anywhere, do anything car for the money.